


Tit for Tat

by InNeedOfInspiration



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, F/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Romanogers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 15:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12235326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InNeedOfInspiration/pseuds/InNeedOfInspiration
Summary: Steve Rogers didn't have many friends. But he did have two. One was Bucky. And the other was a girl.A Romanogers AU one-shot with pre-serum and post-serum Steve.





	Tit for Tat

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it!

Steve Rogers did not have many friends. Maybe it was because he'd always end up halting to catch his breath and stop running after the ball when he and the other boys would play soccer in the street. Or maybe it was because he was the smallest one in the class, often thought (and mocked) to be as big as the grade 2 kids. Maybe it was because his mother would often come and pick him up before the end of the school day to take him to a medical appointment. It was hard to tell, but they could all be valid theories.

But he wasn't a loner either. He had made a friend eventually. Big Timmy Monaghan from grade 5 who seemed to have taken the oath of saving his mother the trouble of preparing him a lunch pack, had taken the habit to help himself in the lunch boxes of the younger pupils. They all let him because he was as big as a grade 6 and he was mean. Most of them were scared of him. Steve was not. And lately, it appeared Timmy Monaghan had developed a liking for Mrs Rogers' tuna and corn sandwiches. And they were delicious, indeed. Steve loved them, too. So when Timmy Monaghan came the first time and snatched one triangle piece from his lunch box and bit into it, Steve hadn't protested much although he really would have wanted to. But his mother had often told him that he should be kind and generous with others. And maybe Mrs Monaghan's tuna and corn sandwich wasn't as good as his mother's. Timmy had swallowed down his piece without a word and walked out with a loud snark. Steve had frowned, bothered by this blatant lack of politeness, but then had shrugged it off.

Except that Timmy Monaghan did the same thing again over and over. It happened yet another time and that one day Steve Rogers put his mother's little voice in a corner of his head and decided to defend his sandwich. Timmy Monaghan snorted loudly and told him to shut up. As he reached for the sandwich, Steve closed the box just in time. Timmy Monaghan frowned deeply. He pointed a threatening finger at him and poked him in the shoulder. Steve looked down at that intruding finger and clenched his fists under the table.

"You think you can tell me what not to do, Rogers?" Timmy Monaghan grumbled. Then he poked his shoulder again, harder.

"Stop it!" Steve yelled.

"Or what? You're gonna go cry to your mom?" Timmy Monaghan laughed out loud with a wide open mouth.

It made Steve frown. He never did that. He was a brave little boy. His mother often told him so. She even said she wished he weren't so brave.

Timmy Monaghan raised his finger again and poked him two times in a row this time. Steve rose his fists, ready to hit him. He had promised his mom he wouldn't get in a fight this year, but neither she or he had predicted the issue of Timmy Monaghan and his unfortunate obsession with her tuna and corn sandwich.

One hand suddenly pressed Timmy's shoulder and squeezed it just hard enough to pique his interest.

"How about you pick on someone your own size?" the boy standing behind him said.

Timmy gawked at him, looking alarmed. It was obvious Timmy Monaghan and this boy had history together, and the kind that hadn't had a happy ending for Timmy.

"I wasn't..." he stuttered.

The boy shrugged then he said with a cheeky smirk. "Great. Then go away."

Timmy sulked, probably hit by the realization he was saying farewell to Mrs Rogers' tuna and corn sandwich forever. He glanced at Steve with a mix of resentment and dissatisfaction then he walked off.

"And tell your mother to make you sandwiches!" the boy called.

He then turned and looked Steve up and down. "That was brave what you were about to do," he commented coolly.

Steve panicked. "I wasn't going to do anything!"

"Relax. I won't tell Miss Mitchell." The boy assured him. "But you're still lucky I stepped in or Timmy would have turned you into tuna."

"He wouldn't have! I would have hit him harder."

"Oh so now you admit you were going to do it," the boy smirked. He looked at him with a whole new form of genuine appreciation, then he held his hand out to him. "I'm James Barnes. But all my friends call me Bucky."

And from this day, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes became inseparable.

As mentioned earlier, Steve Rogers didn't have many friends. But he did have two. One was Bucky. And the other was a girl.

But she was not a girl. Not like the girls you'd find in school. She liked to play soccer, baseball and fight. She was probably stronger than Steve and Bucky -although neither would admit it. Her bright red hair was often attached in a braid because her mother was sick of spending long minutes in the evening untangling it after all her shenanigans. Natasha –that was her name— was a bit strange. And not only because her only doll was an unndercover samourai. She had moved to the US when she was a toddler and her parents didn't speak English fluently. She would often blurt out Russian words while playing with them. It was usually a useful signal that she was getting upset or annoyed.

She lived in the same building as he did. And she, Steve and Bucky spent their days together. Natasha always had the best games. Her imagination was wild and knew no bounds. She often impressed them. Natasha Romanoff was the best third boy friend of the band they could get.

"Timmy Monaghan is lucky I'm not in his school," she said. "I would make him cry like the big baby he is."

"I'd give all my pocket money to see that happen," Bucky said.

Steve agreed with a wide smile.

They went to play baseball. Natasha and Bucky were the best game partners to have. They never complained or made any comment when Steve would have to stop and catch his breath. That usually coincided with the time they would call for a well-deserved break.

They sat on the edge of the sidewalk and Natasha pulled a lollipop out of her pocket.

"I thought you weren't one of those silly girls who like lollipops?" Bucky teased.

"Say that again, James Buchanan Barnes." Natasha hissed. She looked daggers at him like he had just brought her name and reputation into disrepute. "First of all, there is no silly girl on this planet. As in, not ever. Second, I may not like those girls who wear ribbons in their hair and sing to their dolls but that doesn't mean we can't all agree on the fact that lollipops are one of the best thing ever made. You _idiota kusok_."

Bucky and Steve glanced at each other and cringed. It was never a good sign when Natasha began to speak Russian. Then they proceeded to shrink in their spots to look invisible until she would fully cool down.

After a few minutes, when pink rose to Steve's cheeks again, they all stood up again. Natasha wrapped the paper around what was left of her candy then she put it back in her pocket.

It was Bucky's turn to throw the ball and Steve's to hold the bat. He hit the ball at the first try.

Natasha screamed and jumped up. "Go, Steve!"

Bucky ran after the ball while he dropped the bat and began running to the first mark. He then passed the second. But as he was about to reach the third, he stepped on the lace of his other shoe and tripped. His body jerked forward and he fell to the ground, scratching his knee against the asphalt.

Natasha and Bucky ran to him. All three of them looked down at his knee and the blood dripping down his leg and that was leaving a stain on his yellow sock. The wound stung, and his ego even more, and he cringed, fighting off the tears. Besides, it certainly wasn't his first knee scratch.

"Oh no," Natasha said, examining the injury with a stern expression. Bucky agreed with a nod. "It looks like you're in for an amputation."

"So cool," Bucky chimed in with feigned admiration. "You'll be halfway through to looking like a real pirate."

"Hopefully next week Bucky will inadvertently poke you in the eye with a woodstick."

"Or maybe _you_ will with one of your lollipops," Bucky retorted, crossing his arms.

"Shut up. You're just jealous I didn't bring one for you,” Natasha remarked with a mocking smirk. “Don't worry –the feeling will fade."

They improvized a band-aid with a tissue and an elastic band Bucky had "borrowed" from Mrs Peddlingham's desk.

It was getting late. They walked back home and as they reached Steve's street, Bucky waved goodbye and walked past while they turned at the corner.

Natasha accompanied him to his door. She looked at him with a smile.

"Are you OK?" she asked.

Steve shrugged. "I guess. I just feel a little stupid. Or as you'd say idiota gusok."

"It's i _diota kusok_ ," she corrected him amusingly with a perfect Russian accent. She tilted her head. "You're far from one. You'll never look stupid to me."

He looked down at his feet and nervously wrapped one leg around the other.

"Thanks, Nat." He mumbled sheepishly.

She chuckled.

"One day I will give you a kiss, Steve Rogers - and you won't see it coming."

He blinked a few times, doubting his own hearing. This was something he had never imagined. Natasha was his game buddy. And kisses were a foreign concept to her. She would always greet them by jumping up on them or doing arm locks from behind. Or both. Her most affectionate gesture was when she would ruffle their hair whenever they turned up with a new do. She was like a second Bucky to him. Would he give Bucky a kiss? Eww, certainly not. But it still was more likely to happen with Bucky than with Natasha! That's how low the chances of it actually happening were.

When he looked at her she was smiling cheekily, then she ran up the stairs before he could say anything.

The conversation was never brought up again, and soon it became a remote –weird– memory.

Many years had gone by, and Steve still didn't have many friends. Or maybe he had too many. People were always calling his name and cheering every time he would knock over Hitler and the curtain would go down. Fame gave a dim illusion of popularity that faded away as soon as he put his costume away.

Bucky was gone in the field, doing what he desperately wanted to do. Fighting the bullies. Since they were in school, they had known that Timmy Monaghan and the other bullies were the kind of people they wanted to stop. Sadly, in the course of time, it became more and more obvious that bullies became worse and more mean along with the growing age. When war begun, it was evident they would join in the fight.

After being injected with the super soldier serum, Steve had dared to believe his dream was coming true, only to be cut short immediately after when he was sent back to the US to take part in the UFO propaganda.

This night, he was performing in New York. And as he stepped on stage and began his singing routine, someone in the audience caught his eye. A familiar, smirking, red-haired, green-eyed figure clapping along with unconcealed and unapolegetic sarcasm. He froze for a second, then, as the ladies of the company began catwalking before him in choregraphed motions, he resumed his part and finished the show. When he succesfully knocked down Hitler this night again, he froze in a last climactic, heroic posture but his eyes looked in her direction. She rose to her feet and whistled, then applauded along with the audience. The lights went off, the curtain dropped, then he made his way backstage.

He quickly changed into more sober-colored clothes and dashed to the main room. People were waiting with papers and posters for him to sign. Girls clung to his neck to plant kisses on his face while his eyes desperately ran across the room, seeking only one girl.

He found her, sitting comfortably at a table, sipping her drink. He watched quite perplexed as a man approached her with suave looks and winks. She smiled, seeming to go along with his flirting, until she said a few words that made him stand numbly then walk away with his tail between the legs.

Once Steve eventually satisfied the crowd, he walked through over to her table. Natasha stood up gracefully in her elegant dress. She had kept her promise to cut her hair someday, and it was now hardly lower then her chin. They both ran into each other's arms and he held her tight. His nose fell into that bright red hair of hers he had missed and it had a subtle smell of lavender.

"You looked ridiculous," he heard her say and he chuckled lightly.

"I missed you, too." He answered back, whispering into her neck.

When she pulled away, he took a long look at the girl - woman - standing before him. It seemed she had changed a lot over the 3 years he hadn't seen her after she had gone for Suffolk University.She oozed an unsettling feminity and confidence that made all the men in the venue stare dumbfoundedly. She looked ravishing; he could see it, too. But maybe it was their old childhood friensdhip, or the memories of Natasha covered in mud at numerous occasions, that made it impossible for him to stare dumbfoundedly at her along with them.

"How's Bucky?" she asked.

"Probably enjoying himself more than me," he rolled his eyes.

It seemed to hit her just now. She pressed her hands on each side of his shoulders.

"Look at you! You look so broad! How do you even pass through the doors?"

He snorted. "Sometimes they hold up."

She took his hand and pulled him to come and sit at the table. Natasha knew the whole story. There was no detail she wasn't aware of since they had religiously corresponded with each other. Not a week went by during which he didn't send to or receive a letter from her. She had been the first to congratulate him when he had finally been accepted in the army. She had commanded him to take care the night before he went for the super soldier experiment. She had comforted him when he had been kicked out.

After their drink, they went out for a walk along the dark streets. He had his hands in his pockets while she walked beside him with his jacket that he had laid over her shoulders when it had begun to get chilly.

"Did you go back to Brooklyn?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered quietly. "It's not the same anymore. He thinks I'm her."

She had kept him updated on her father's dementia following to her mother's death.

He looked at her closely.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly.

She had been here at his mother's funeral (just a few days before moving to Boston) just like he had been there at her mother's a couple of years before. When Sarah had died, Bucky had been able to find the words to comfort him. Natasha hadn't had to say anything. She had simply stood by his side during the reverend's speech, holding his hand silently and a mutual comfort rose in the warmth of their intertwined fingers. She hadn't shed a single tear when her mother had died and yet he had found one rolling down her cheek while staring at his mother's coffin. Natasha had always this unbreakable reserve when it came to her own emotions; but whenever it concerned Steve's, or anyone else's for that matter, she wore her heart to her sleeve.

Natasha held her confident posture but she looked wistful. She shrugged it off but that hint of sadness in her eyes lingered a little longer.

"So," she exclaimed cheerfully, clearing her throat, "when are you going to burst through the colonel's door and tell him you want back in?"

He snorted. "I can't do that."

"Excuse me?" She said, arching an eyebrow. "Since when Steve Rogers gets cold feet? You're bold, stubborn, uncompromising. And yes, these are all qualities in my book."

"I'm not indispensable."

"What are you talking about? Captain America is indispensable."

"Well, you tell them that. Not even a super soldier serum was enough to make me special." He sounded disillusioned, caught up by the realization his dreams were too far away to grasp.

"You are special," Natasha said. He brushed off her comment and she stepped up in front of him to make him look at her. "Steve. You've _always_ been special. Serum or not," she asserted softly, looking him deep in the eye. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

He reached for her hand and stroked it with his thumb. He realized now more than ever how much he had missed her by his side. He damned the next morning when he would have to leave her to continue his tour.

"What would I be without you?" he said.

"You don't want to know," she teased with a smirk, making him smile as only she had the secret, then they resumed walking.

When it got too late and unsuitable for people their age to be strolling along the streets, he walked her back to the hotel she had reserved for the duration of her stay.

She climbed up a step so she would be the same height as him.

"I keep forgetting you're taller than I remember," she commented.

"So do I" he said with a cocky smile.

"Well," she began, glancing behind. "I guess it's time to say goodbye."

She gently took the jacket off her shoulders and handed it to him.

"Thank you..for coming to meet me, tonight. I hadn't realized how much I needed it."

She smiled faintly. "You look after yourself, okay?"

It amused him. After all those years, even after seeing the effect of the serum with her own eyes, her first instinct to be protective of him still prevailed.

"I will."

"And when, you know, when you're back in the army -because you will- be nice to Peggy Carter."

He frowned. "Peggy?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Peggy. The girl you've been not so subtly awfully quiet about all night." She went on. "That Peggy."

He chuckled, burying his hands into his pockets. "She's a friend," he affirmed matter-of-factly. "A good friend."

Natasha pouted, not so sure about that. "If you say so. It's alright. You got time to figure it out."

He watched her quizzically. She pressed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him away playfully. "Leave now," she said.

She flipped to face her hotel and he mirrored her when her hand grasped the front of his shirt and pulled him back.

"But before it's too late," she whispered. He turned around to face her again and her mouth came to press against his. Her lips were warm and soft, with the most unexpectedly agreeable taste his mind had ever listed. His heart did a thing it hadn't done in a while since he had been injected with the serum. It skipped a beat. For a split second, his body was thrown back to old times and it went weak.

When she pulled away and glanced up, she found his eyes staring back at her intently, with a slightly quickened breathing.

She smirked.

"I told you you wouldn't see it coming," she whispered. For a moment, they became those children by the door of his apartment after he had scratched his knee.

"If there is a next time, it will be your turn." She purred huskily with a suave smirk. She then pulled away and walked up the stairs to her hotel.

He stood by the stairs long minutes after she closed the door behind her, replaying what had just happened in his head. And as he did so to the point it brought a smile to his lips, he looked forward to that fabulous turmoil of sensations again, would he muster the courage to take her at her word and reciprocate.

Years had gone by and they had become adults but Natasha hadn't lost her talent at making up the best games. And this was a new kind of game he was willing to play.

  
  


 


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